Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Sitting down at the opposite end of the couch, I watch her nuzzle her nose against Abel’s cheek as he eats. He’s gobbling down the formula. The pain meds must have helped with his ear.
“Nathaniel wants us to bring him in to his office soon. He’d like to do a thorough checkup. He mentioned something about a tongue tie,” I say. “I’m not entirely sure what that is.”
When in doubt and when someone doesn’t want to talk to you, always try asking them something they know about. Allowing them to explain something to you gives them an imaginary advantage.
Eden sighs almost sadly. “That’s why he uses formula.”
“The tongue tie thing?” I ask.
“Yes. The doctors discovered it right after he was born. He wasn’t able to latch onto me.”
She’s staring down at Abel and I can’t see her eyes, but there’s emotion in her words.
“I was going to let them snip the tie, but my husband… he wouldn’t let them do it. He didn’t want to pay for it, and didn’t like the idea of Abel nursing on me. He thought breastfeeding was unnatural.”
“Stupid fuck,” I grumble to her.
“That’s how I felt, about myself as much as him. Breastfeeding would be so much easier than scrimping every penny for formula.”
“I didn’t mean you. Your ex-husband browbeat you into that decision, I bet.”
Her answering silence is all the evidence I need of that.
Fucking idiot of a man. How dare he deny something to my wife and child like that.
He may not have known they were mine then but he will.
I’ll enjoy showing him the error of his ways.
I’ll never deny her anything that will bring her happiness and joy. I can see clearly now how much she wishes she had done it differently.
“He really did,” Eden whispers quietly.
She’s exhausted. The way her body slumps back into the couch now that Abel is drinking his formula shows me just how very weary she is.
She needs rest, and as I watch her eyes open and close a couple of times, I think even if she hates me, she trusts me to keep watch over them.
Moving quietly over the couch cushions, I slowly slide my body up beside her. She looks annoyed at me, but doesn’t do anything.
Placing my hand on the bottle, I gently take it from her hand. “Let me help.”
“Jude,” she whispers, “just leave us alone.”
“No,” I whisper back. “I told you already, from now on I’m taking care of you both. No matter what.”
Holding the bottle for Abel, I stare into his eyes and smile at him. He’s a handsome little guy. I see nothing of that bastard in his features. Not that I would know if he truly had any.
But I see all the best parts of Eden there.
A soft sigh of sleep comes out of Eden’s mouth after a while, and it causes my heart to thrum with exhilaration.
Abel gurgles a smile at me around the bottle, and I carefully lift him from her lap.
Holding him in my arms like I’ve seen Lucifer and Simon do with their babies, I continue to watch my son eat his fill.
He’s a hungry one, and ready to take on the world, I bet.
When he finally pulls from the bottle, Abel smiles up at me for a brief moment before a frown begins to form on his lips.
Fuck.
What am I supposed to do now?
Simon puts his daughters up on his shoulder and pats their back to…
To what?
I can’t remember, but if he did it, the perfectionist fuck that he is, he had a reason.
Lifting Abel up, I put him to my shoulder and very lightly begin to pat his back.
Eden begins to stir from her sleep, and I can’t have that.
Standing, I gently step around the living room and bounce him.
Why the fuck am I doing this?
The massive burp that erupts from Abel is the answer I was searching for.
The gods above and below must have heard that one because when I pull back, Abel has a silly grin on his face.
And a little spit up.
Shit.
My back is warm and wet now.
“Well, buddy,” I say to Abel, “I’m assuming that burping you was a good thing.”
Another frown suddenly appears on his face, and by some fucking stroke of ill luck I feel a wet spot on the front of my shirt.
“You just peed on me, didn’t you?” I ask.
Moving us up the stairs and down the hall, I walk past the bathroom and straight into Eden’s bedroom. Looking around, I spot a table and a stack of diapers on the side.
I can do this.
I can change a diaper.
No problem.
I’ve put a woman’s pad on a man’s leg to help stop a bleeding stab wound. I’ve stuffed tampons into gunshot wounds.
Steeling my nerves, I lay a squirming Abel on the changing tabletop.
He’s squirmy but not crying yet. Thank fuck.